


Haunting With Benefits

by Pfeldspar



Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half-Life
Genre: Dubious ghost science, Ghost Sex, Hauntings, M/M, Orgasm Denial, ghost!benrey, gordon used to work for aperture, insecure!gordon, paranormal investigators bubby and coomer, posession, seance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:09:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28464369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pfeldspar/pseuds/Pfeldspar
Summary: “Spirit!” Coomer throws his hands out dramatically. Gordon rolls his eyes.“Give us a sign if you are here.”Coomer and Gordon (as instructed) place their hands on the planchette. After a moment, it begins to glide across the surface of its own volition. Gordon studies Coomer’s arms, to see if he’s intentionally moving it. Gordon knows that he himself isn’t.The letters spell out:‘B L O W - M E’__Gordon Freeman doesn’t believe in ghosts, but his house is very much haunted.
Relationships: Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Comments: 9
Kudos: 182





	Haunting With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

> I TRIED TO HAVE THIS DONE BY HALLOWEEN BUT WELL...HERE WE ARE.

Gordon Freeman was a theoretical physicist. He was on leave from work after an accident resulting in the loss of his hand. Regardless, in degree and in employment he was a theoretical physicist. He knew how this shit worked. He’d studied the Large Hadron Collider in Geneva on a sabbatical. The particle accelerator ruled out any ghostly phenomenon. He knows that there’s nothing hiding in the ether. There just isn’t any room. It’s been proven. It’s just science. He’s spent years studying mathematical models and abstractions of physical objects. It’s his job to rationalize and predict. To make sense of a chaotic world. Check things off in neat boxes. Establish borders. Establish order. He’s pretty damn secure in his understanding of how the world works. 

He was standing in his foggy post-shower bathroom. Watching in horror as words were being written in the condensation on the mirror, as if being drawn by a finger.

‘sup bro’ impossibly said his bathroom mirror. 

Gordon was a perfectly sane, perfectly healthy man. He was smart. This couldn’t be happening. Not to him, not to anyone. It’s not quantifiable. It’s not measurable. It’s not possible.

His breath caught in his throat when more words began to appear with lazy, deliberate slowness.

‘why

are

you

shaking?’ 

Gordon smeared the words, wiping the mirror frantically with his hand. He looked around wildly, seeing nothing out of the ordinary. He searched his entire house in a fervor, tripping over several boxes he hadn’t unpacked yet.

Nothing.

Gordon Freeman was a theoretical physicist. He doesn’t believe in ghosts. No self-respecting man of science would.

This, however, does not correlate with the fact that Gordon Freeman’s house is very much haunted.

—

One day earlier.

Gordon grinned in satisfaction at his new home. Sure, it needed work, probably more than visible during the tour if the price is any indicator, but it was his. 

A proud feeling bubbled in his chest, imagining playing catch with Joshua in the yard, barbecuing out back. He carried the first box up the stairs, a spring in his step, humming happily. A wholesome future laid out before him. 

He nearly dropped the box in surprise when the door slammed shut in his face. 

He tottered dangerously on the step, but regained his balance. Huh. So his new house is a little old and drafty. Not a problem. Explains why it was such a steal.

He was slowly working his way bringing boxes from his car, the movers had dropped off the larger items and furniture. Once he had most of his stuff inside, he unpacked his kitchen appliances and decided to reward himself with some coffee. 

He set his favorite Aperture Science mug down and put the filter in the coffee maker, dumping far too much ground coffee into it. He blinked when he heard a scraping noise, looking over to see his mug closer to the edge of the counter then he thought . He pushed it back, blaming his carelessness on being tired. 

He placed the coffee pitcher under the faucet and turned the sink on. He frowned when the pipes began to rumble before hissing a high pitched frequency. He moved the pitcher out of the way just before an unnatural blue substance shot out of the tap, splattering the sink in blue. 

“What the fuck?!” He shouted, backing away. The faucet trembled and groaned again, before normal water rushed out, washing the blue matter down the drain. 

Gordon wished he could have saved some to study instead of standing there dumbly.

He must be very tired, indeed. He opted to use some filtered water he had bought instead.

He jumped at a shattering sound and turned to see his favorite mug on the floor in pieces. 

Son of a bitch.

After cleaning up the remains of his mug and finally having some coffee, he wandered into the living room. The floorboards creaked. He hadn’t realized that he had begun to unpack his PlayStation4. Well, might as well take a break and game a bit. 

He started up Heavenly Sword while talking to himself, he wants to try his hand at being a streamer, after all. It was always a little bit uncomfortable and nerve wracking at first but once he got into the swing of things, Gordon was having a blast, getting into the zone, improving some one-liners as he beat a mid-level boss. 

He felt a chill run down his spine. He had the distinct impression that someone was watching him. The hairs on his neck stood on end. He paused the game and looked behind him. The room was empty. 

He swallowed and ignored the unsettling feeling, turning back to see the game unpaused and just catching his character being killed on screen before the game over screen flashed. 

Fuck it, better get back to unpacking.

—

Gordon flopped into his bed, exhausted. Moving was a lot of work. He felt like he was going to fall asleep instantly. He closed his eyes and sighed in tired contentment.

Suddenly, he froze, hearing footsteps pacing outside his door. He sat up slowly. It sounded like the heavy tread of boots, like a security guard patrolling a checkpoint. Back and forth and back and forth again.

Gordon made his way to the door, holding his breath. 

The footsteps continued. He listened for the rustle of fabric or any noise indicating the intruder had a weapon. When the steps were right outside, he threw open the door, hoping to get the jump on this person.

The hallway was empty and dark. No one on the stairs or in the other rooms.

Well. Okay then.

Gordon was decidedly not dwelling on it. He had PTSD from losing his hand and was paranoid. That was it. A simple, logical conclusion. 

As he started to fall asleep, he could have sworn he heard someone singing from the next room over.

—

Gordon yawned, making his way down the stairs. He had slept poorly, dreaming of a giant security guard trying to kiss or eat him, he wasn’t sure which. Would he ever have a truly restful night's sleep? Probably not. He passed through the living room on his way to the kitchen and stopped, doing a double take. 

It was like those pianos that play themselves, but instead of a melody being played inside an upper class department store, it was Heavenly Sword being played by a lone controller on his shitty couch. 

Gordon took a step forward and the controller stopped, the pause screen lighting up his tv. 

He felt as if someone was giving him an annoyed, impatient, and strangely patronizing stare. 

It was too damn early for this shit. Faulty wiring or -something. New PS4 surveillance hardware. Who the fuck knows. The alternative would be impossible so he didn’t even consider it.

Gordon walked into the kitchen and resolutely ignored sounds of the game starting back up.

When he ventured out after breakfast, the tv was off and there was, mysteriously, a Mountain Dew game fuel bottle half drank, on his coffee table. 

Gordon chugged the rest and recycled the bottle. He must have forgotten that he bought it. There was a strange aftertaste that could only be described as ‘blue’. He clicked his tongue. Hm, it wasn’t that bad, actually.

—

Gordon was a relatively young man. He had needs. He had a lot of pent up anxiety and stress and a whole empty house to himself. He grabbed his laptop and sat on his bed with anticipation blooming warmly in his stomach. He pulled up one of this favorite videos on pornhub and unzipped his pants-

His door slammed open. He jumped with a startled shout. The door banged against the wall before bouncing back to a cracked position. Stupid draft.

Gordon settled back again, willing himself to get back in the mood. His gaze drifted reluctantly to his slightly ajar door. He could very well imagine someone peeking through the crack in the door, watching him. 

Even though he knew he was the only one in the house. His heart beat quickly. That idea was a little exciting but he quashed that interest and crossed the room to close the door. He made sure the latch was firmly clicked in place before he settled down again.

His laptop flashed a warning that he had half an hour of battery left before dying altogether. He had just charged it. Must be getting old. 

He pulled out his phone, frowning. His phone died too.

He slapped it onto his nightstand. He was determined to get off no matter what. Technology be damned. He had an imagination and could get himself off, thank you very much.

He closed his eyes and focused on the sensation pooling in him, drawing a hand over his boxers.

Bang!

Gordon jumped, staring at the ceiling while it emitted a pattern of clanging noise. It sounded like someone was banging on the pipes. 

What in the goddamn.

Was that the song ‘Oh Yeah’ by Yello?

Gordon figured he must have musical rats or something. Man. Fucking annoying.

He’ll just get off later, the banging didn’t seem to be subsiding any time soon. 

He got up and readjusted his pants with an annoyed sigh.

He decided to go get some fresh air. As he headed out the door, the pipes made a sound that he could have sworn was the victory jingle from Final Fantasy.

Stepping out into the sunshine, Gordon surveyed his new lawn. The location of the house was a bit off the beaten path as it were and amongst the wildflowers, there were a lot of weeds to take care of. They could wait until later. Obviously the house hadn’t been lived in for a long time. 

He noticed his neighbor on the other side of the fence, playing with a large golden retriever.

He walked over with a tired smile and a wave, “Howdy.”

“Hi!” Said the man, “My name’s Tommy. It’s nice to meet you!”

Gordon shook his hand over the fence and introduced himself. 

“You live there by yourself?” He indicates Tommy’s large house with a nod.

“No, it’s me and my dad. And Sunkist, of course!” 

“Sunkist?”

A bark. 

“Oh, hi there, girl.” Gordon’s bends down and let’s the dog sniff his hand through the fence before scratching her behind the ears, tail thumping happily. 

“It’s- It’s great that you moved in there,” Tommy points behind Gordon. “It’s been, uh, it’s been a bit lonely.” 

There wasn’t anything funny that had been said but Gordon laughed, straightening, “I don’t think houses get lonely.”

Tommy’s smile seemed a bit sad, “No, they don’t, Mr. Freeman.” He brightened, “I think it’ll be just wonderful though, you’ll see!”

“Sure…” Gordon thought Tommy seemed a bit eccentric but he liked the older man’s attitude and could see a sharp intelligence behind his goofy, innocent demeanor. He thought they’d get along just fine. He was a little too tired to parse just what Tommy was talking about and decided to wrap this up before he made a bad impression.

“Well, I’m gonna get back to it, still settling in, you know?”

Tommy nodded enthusiastically, “Yeah, a lot to do, I bet. Bye!” 

Gordon rustled through the maze of weeds. He turned to look back at Tommy, before opening the door to his house. Tommy was waving. Gordon raised his arm to wave back at his new neighbor before realizing that Tommy wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at a window on the second story, waving with a huge smile. Gordon stared. Tommy gave the window a thumbs up before disappearing past the fence.

What the fuck. 

What the fuck was that?

Was there someone up there?

He nervously climbed the stairs, berating himself for being so scared. This was stupid. Tommy was a weird guy, maybe he was messing with Gordon. Or maybe he had an astigmatism and thought he was actually waving at Gordon.

Gordon hadn’t seen this room outside of the tour. Both he and Joshua had their own rooms, so this one was a spare. 

He figured he’d use it as an office or a guest room once he got settled.

He slowly opened the door, peeking inside. Just a normal empty room. He stepped inside, looking around. He came to the window, looking at Tommy’s rather gothic looking house. He didn’t seem like the type for the pointy iron fence but to each their own.

Someone yanked on his ponytail.

Gordon whipped around, fists at the ready. He may be a nerdy scientist but he was a big guy. He wasn’t going to let someone just break into his house. His eyes darted around, looking for whoever had been behind him. 

He was alone. 

“Hello?” He called. 

He tentatively stepped into the hallway, grabbing a crowbar that had been in the mystery room for some reason.

The door slammed behind him. 

He double checked the house and locked all of the windows and doors.

He kept the crowbar by his bed as a safety precaution. 

He called and told his ex that Joshua couldn’t visit this weekend because he’s still getting settled.

It had nothing to do with the fact that he distinctly felt like someone else was in the house with him. Someone who existed in a another plane of reality than himself.

—

As much as denial had been his best friend in the past week, there was definitely some weird shit™ happening. Gordon wasn’t going to put a name to it, as if doing so would somehow cement it as real and not just the delusions of an insane man. Putting too fine a point on it would drive the final nail into the coffin. He wasn’t even going to think of the G word. Nope.

Nothing otherworldly or spiritual or paranormal going on here. No, sir.

It’s amazing how a person can become acclimated to the strangest things. Humans are adaptable. Over thousands of years of evolution, where adaptability is preferable, of course you’re going to be able to roll with some odd stuff.

But just because Gordon is used to something, doesn’t mean that it isn’t annoying as all hell.

Almost every time he took a step, almost every goddamned time, there was an echoing footstep behind him. 

He searched the entire house, it was only him. Even so, he would hear it. Like someone was following him. Shouting or playing music wouldn’t create an echo, so it didn’t necessarily have to do with the acoustics of the place.

The stairs creaking in the night, the window’s shutters and doors slamming, things falling off of shelves, that didn’t bother him. But inexplicably hearing another pair of feet everywhere he went was fucking annoying.

He didn’t even feel watched all the time, like one would expect. (Unless he was gaming). 

But those footsteps. He’d swear that he even heard extra footsteps wet on the tile when he was in the shower. 

He’d be walking to the kitchen, but stop and listen. One extra step before the sound stopped, like something was waiting for him. He’d continue on and the sound would echo his own again. He stopped. One more foot step, then silence. It was fucking infuriating.

Gordon grit his teeth and went to the fridge, smelling the milk to see if he could use it past the expiration date.

The bottom end of the jug tipped up like someone had smacked it, spraying Gordon and the floor.

“What is your fucking problem?!” He yelled into the empty kitchen.

Silence. 

The lack of response pissed him off even more. 

“Oh, so now you don’t have anything to say? No clever little pranks? What’s the fucking point of all this? I’m not leaving. If you’re trying to scare me off, it won’t work. This is my house and you’re going to have to live with that.”

A beat.

“Or not live! With that…” Gordon finished lamely. He realized he’s having a tantrum at his empty house. He’s definitely not yelling at a ghost. Because they don’t exist.

Gordon looked up some paranormal investigators on his phone. Because ghosts don’t exist. Of course. This was going to prove that it was all bullshit.

An invisible hand slapped his ass.

—

Gordon doesn’t know what he had been expecting when he saw the Black Mesa Paranormal Research Facility van screech into his driveway. The two old men, one portly with a mustache and one tall and tapping his foot impatiently, at Gordon’s door most definitely weren’t it, that’s for sure.

“Hello,” the mustachioed man checked a file in his hands, “Gordon!” He said with aggressive cheerfulness.

“Let’s get this motherfucker!” Said the taller man, grinning with too-sharp teeth, slamming a fist into his palm.

Gordon wasn’t sure if these guys were fucking with him. What was this, Good exorcist Bad exorcist?

“Sorry, I didn’t get your names?” He said uncertainly.

“You can call me Dr. Coomer!”

“And I’m Bubby.”

Gordon was now certain these guys were fucking with him. “...right.” He withheld an exasperated sigh. “Well, come in, I guess.” He stepped out of the way to let them into the threshold.

He was a little surprised that they didn’t have a bunch of thermal reading equipment or tape recorders like in paranormal investigator shows. (He’d done his research, okay?)

“So, how does this work? Do you have a ghost radar or a temperature gaugeor something?”

“Shut up,” Bubby snapped, pushing past him.

“Don’t be stupid, Gordon!” Coomer clapped him on the back casually with a grin crinkling his face, “we have a oujia board!” He said like that explained everything.

Bubby was already climbing the stairs, “and plenty of lighter fluid, if need be,” he said, absently flicking a lighter. 

“You’re not going to burn my fucking house down,” Gordon rushed after him.

“Now Gordon, we have to see what we’re dealing with.”

“No, we won’t! No fires.”

“Little bitch ass.” Bubby muttered and the door to the vacant room opened on its own, seemingly with approval. 

Gordon glared at the room.

“Huh,” Bubby said.

“Well done, professor!”

“Doctor.”

“Professor.

“Doctor!”

“Bubby!” 

“Guys!”

They turned to look at him. Bubby scowled at Gordon as if he had intruded on something important. 

“What?” They asked in unison, seeming honest to god baffled that he’d interrupt them.

Gordon made an abortive sound, gesturing at the room, “Ghost?”

The two old men blinked.

Coomer nodded seriously, “Ghost. We must stay focused on the task at hand.” 

They pulled out the oujia board from its cheap cardboard Hasbro tomb, fumbling with the printed instructions. 

Gordon checked his watch. These guys charge by the hour. 

Bubby lit some candles in a circle while Coomer mans the oujia. Gordon’s gotta hand it to them, the effect is nice. The glowing candles dimly illuminate the dusky room, casting stark, flickering shadows around them. Gordon and Coomer sit across each other on the floor, the board between them. Coomer explains the ‘intricate and otherworldly’ (his words) process and starts rattling off some incantations.

“Spirit!” Coomer throws his hands out dramatically. Gordon rolls his eyes.

“Give us a sign if you are here.”

Coomer and Gordon (as instructed) place their hands on the planchette. After a moment, it begins to glide across the surface of its own volition. Gordon studies Coomer’s arms, to see if he’s intentionally moving it. Gordon knows that he himself isn’t.

The letters spell out:

‘B L O W - M E’

Bubby cackled hysterically, falling back on the bed he was sitting on and kicking his legs.

Coomer squinted, “What kind of mystical cypher could this be?”

Gordon wheezed a laugh, “the ghost said to blow him.”

“Oh.” Said Coomer, “interesting.” He cleared his throat, “spirit, we will not give you a blowed job, I’m not sure that’s even possible. Who are you?”

The planchette moved to the letter B and firmly stayed there. Gordon tried to move it but it wouldn’t budge. 

“Now Gordon, it won’t do to interfere with the communing process.” Coomer explained patiently.

“The ghost is just fucking with us.” Gordon said.

“No shit, dumbass.” Bubby muttered.

“Why are you even here?” Gordon snapped at him.

“Now gentlemen-“ began Coomer.

“BBBBBBBBB” Said the oujia board.

“Can you at least tell us your name?” Gordon asked, looking up at the ceiling in exasperation.

The planchette slid from its perch upon B to rest on the letters E, N, R, E, Y.

“Benrey? Benrey’s your name?”

It hovered over ‘YES’.

Well then.

“Well, Benrey. What do you want? Are you having trouble moving on to the afterlife?” Coomer asked.

The board spelled out, ‘DON’T WANNA’.

Gordon groaned, “how do we get rid of you?”

“Gordon! Have some respect for the dead!” Coomer scolded as the planchette slid around to read ‘CALL GHOST BUSTERS.’.

“Ok, bud. We get it, you’re funny.” Gordon snorted.

‘THANKS BRO.’ read the board.

“Can you guys like, I don’t know, make this go anywhere?” Gordon asked, making a rolling motion with his hand.

Bubby and Coomer looked at each other.

“For $50 extra-“ Coomer began.

“Cash.” Bubby cut in.

“For $50 in cash we can speed up the exorcism process.”

“I don’t have any cash! I’m already paying you guys by the hour!” Gordon said incredulously. What a couple of con artists. 

“Well that’s just too damn bad isn’t it?” Bubby sneered.

“I assure you we are working to our utmost potential at the speed the hourly rate dictates.” Coomer said in a way that was probably meant to be reassuring but was anything but.

‘CAN YOU GET PS+?’ Asked the oujia board.

Gordon groaned.

It would be a long fucking night.

—

It had been a long fucking night.

In the end, nothing was solved and Gordon was out of a few hundred dollars.

Coomer and Bubby said they would keep in touch in case their research yielded any results. What a fucking scam. 

“So… Benrey’s your name, right? Benrey? “ he addressed his (not so) empty house. 

Silence. Duh.

“Ok bud, we’re going to lay down a couple of ground rules: one, do not fuck with my son. Two, don’t break my shit. Three, hey knock it off!” Gordon ran to catch an urn of his mother’s ashes that had been pushed off of a bookshelf.

“Benrey, you dirty son of a bitch! Don’t do that!” He held the urn in one hand and caught a descending lamp with another.

A couple of books tipped off the shelf onto the floor. 

“What? What do you have beef with?”

Silence.

The lights flickered.

“So you’re just fucking with me? You’re seriously spending your afterlife just- just dicking around? All you want to do is be annoying?” Gordon heard a beeping sound and noticed his PS4 starting up. He placed the urn and the lamp back on a shelf.

“No! Fuck You. We’re not done here.” He ripped the tv’s power cord out of the wall. 

The PS4 ejected The Last of Us Part 2 and it flew out at disproportionate speed and curved up, hitting Gordon in the head. 

“I am not having an argument with a ghost,” Gordon snapped, despite evidence to the contrary.

“Either you shape your shit up and be a less of a god damned nuisance or I am selling all of my games on eBay.”

There was a long pause. Gordon crossed his fingers behind his back.

He stood his ground amidst the tense silence, glaring and hoping Benrey wouldn’t call his bluff. 

The lamp slid slowly back into its original placement with a scraping noise. 

Gordon exhaled a breath through his nose. “Alright. Okay. Good. You can - you can mess around a bit but just lay off sometimes, okay man?”

A book tipped off the shelf.

Gordon dragged a hand down his face. “Okay okay, tell you what. I’ll get you a couple months of PS+.”

Benrey didn’t bother him for the rest of the day.

Gordon would never admit it, but even though he was enjoying the peace and quiet, he felt a little bored and lonely without Benrey pestering (poltergiesting?) him.

—

He was back in the Aperture labs. Sirens were blaring. He couldn’t think, explosions had his ears ringing. Red lights illuminated the walls in rushing waves. There was a deafening roar as machinery split. The walls were shaking, the ceiling was beginning to crumble. Someone was screaming. Someone was always screaming, here. It might have been him.

People around him were crushed, some crying out in pain, others deathly silent. Gordon couldn’t move. He needed to move, it wasn’t safe to be by a sparking machine as the whole test chamber fell apart. He tried to run but he couldn’t. He wasn’t frozen by shock. Why couldn’t he move?

His arm. It was crushed under a massive chunk of rubble. He pulled and pulled. He was trapped. He couldn’t breathe. It hurt so bad. He was going to die. He-

The blanket was torn off his bed.

Gordon jolted awake with a shout, panting and sweating. Nightmares again. He clutched his prosthetic arm, willing his nerves to stop feeling the pain of a limb that wasn’t there anymore. He shook violently.

Struggling to catch his breath, he looked up to check the time to distract himself from the pain. He gasped in surprised terror at a man standing at the end of his bed, staring at him.

There was no man at the end of his bed. 

Gordon blinked rapidly before falling back into his sweaty pillows, sighing shakily.

“Benrey, what did I say about fucking with me when I’m sleeping?”

His blanket fluttered down on top of his face. He laid there for a moment, wondering if Benrey was still in the room with him. He pulled the blanket off of his face, “Wait, did- did you wake me up from my nightmare? Huh. That was kinda sweet of you, man.”

The blanket was ripped away again and he ducked just in time to dodge his alarm clock that came flying at his head. 

“ Yeah yeah, you’re a mean, bad, scary ghost, I get it.” Gordon rolled over with a sigh, “Good night, Benrey.” He mumbled, feeling, strangely enough, safer and more calm than he did before. 

His door closed gently as he began to drift back to sleep.

—

Plenty of people talked to themselves, it wasn’t that unusual. Many of Gordon’s colleagues solved theoretical problems using the ‘rubber duck method’. Explaining something to an inanimate object helps you work through kinks in a problem, it helps you see things from a different angle.

But Gordon wasn’t talking to himself. He had shaky proof, but dubiously credible proof that he was living with a ghost. It would be rude to act like Benrey wasn’t there, right? The dude probably got bored. Gordon was doing him a favor by talking to him. That was it. He was a nice guy.

It was just an added bonus that it eased his own loneliness. Not that he was lonely or anything.

“I just don’t get it,” he began, “how can Tommy be so - so nice, when his dad is such a creep?” [He’ll just like appear! He put 

The room and Benrey, supposedly, gave him no answer.

“Like, they live in a fucking - gothic mansion! What’s up with that?”

The lights flickered.

Gordon held his hands up, “Hey, I’m not saying anything bad about Tommy. Tommy is great. His dad just gives me the willies.”

He blinked.

“Benrey, you and Tommy are friends, right? Or, you were friends, I guess. I think he was waving to you that day after I moved in?” Gordon rubbed his beard, thinking. “Can he see you? Maybe he’s ‘spiritually attuned’ or something. Or maybe he just figured you were up there. He let on that he knew there was something about this house. At least that’s how it seems. I can’t really get a read on the guy. You two were neighbors, huh? Any input, Benrey? Hm. Never mind.”

Gordon accepted that he was living with a ghost as a housemate but he hadn’t quite ruled out the possibility that he was insane. Axiom, this wasn’t normal. But he was going along with it, so what did that say about him?

—

He and Benrey had established a strange equilibrium in their living arrangement. It was like they were roommates. 

Gordon began touching up the paint on the side of his house. Most of the remaining paint that hadn’t peeled away was washed out and faded from years of neglect. Gordon had been pleasantly surprised to find there had been some extra buckets of matching paint in the dusty, cobweb-infested shed out back. 

He started on the second floor, setting up a ladder and painting over the chipped parts, making his way down.

It had taken a better part of the day but he was making solid progress. Gradually, clouds had begun to darken the sky and Gordon decided to wrap things up. He had done enough for the day. Besides, he was nervous about the weather. It was getting very gusty suddenly.

The ladder swayed in the wind and began to tip backward-

There was a moment of breathless antigravity while Gordon clawed desperately for the windowsill before the ground rushed up to meet him.

“...n!”

“...don!”

“Gordon! You fucking scrub what did you do?” 

There was some guy looking down at him in concern. Gordon’s vision swam before everything went back to black.

“Gordon!”

—

Flashing lights. Voices. Radio static.

Someone was moving him. It hurt like a bitch.

Bright fluorescent lights and sterile white walls rushing by.

Empty, numb darkness.

Gordon woke up high off his tits on painkillers in a hospital. He smiled at the diagnosis of his broken ribs and a broken arm. His eyelids fluttered and he passed out again.

—

A couple days later, Tommy pulled up to the hospital in a surprisingly cool car. The flames on the side really suited it. Gordon climbed in and buckled up, careful for his broken arm in its sling. “Thanks a million, Tommy. I appreciate the ride. And I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t called an ambulance for me. I might’ve been laying there for a while.”

“No problem!” Tommy smiled, “It’s uh, it’s very impressive that you were able to text me for help in such a state, Mr. Freeman!” He shifted into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

Gordon blinked. “What are you talking about? I didn’t text you.”

“You did.” Tommy’s smile faltered.

“No, I didn’t .” Gordon insisted.

Tommy handed Gordon his phone, eyes on the road and a small frown on his face, “look at your last text to me.”

Gordon navigated away from the home screen with a picture of Sunkist as the background to Tommy’s recent messages.

The last one sent from his number read 

‘Yo Uh gordos fucked bbro B̶̢̡̼̣̹̗̠̰͕͓̖͖͇͎̗͆͛B̴̯̾̕B̷̨̛̙̈́͆̈́͂́̐̓̊͊̍͘͝B̷̤̪̟͛Ḃ̷͈̱̲͚͍̙̭͉̱̈̽͜ͅ’

Gordon couldn’t help an incredulous laugh, “I know I didn’t send this! does that even sound like me?”

“Well, you do refer to yourself in the third person sometimes, and I assumed you were swimming in adrenaline like- like a sea turtle returning to the ocean.”

“I mean,” Gordon stares at the screen, “Maybe. Huh.”

—

Tommy fussed over Gordon a bit, but eventually conceded to check on him tomorrow after Gordon promised he’d send a text if he needed anything.

Gordon sagged into his couch, wincing at his ribs. He looked around his quiet house.

“Well, thanks for texting Tommy to save my ass, I guess.” He sighed.

“Yeah man, no prob. Gg wp.” 

Gordon’s eyes flew open and he looked around wildly.

“Bro, look at this dude,” drawled a disembodied voice, “What a spazz haha.” 

“Benrey?” He asked the empty room.

“Benrey? Stupid?” The voice said in a mocking imitation.

“I - wh- I can hear you!” Gordon laughed. 

The air shifted. “Oh damn, for real? Gordon Freeman communes with the dead, not clickbait?” Benrey’s voice sounded closer than before, like he wandered over to stand beside Gordon.

“Yes! This is- this is amazing, man!” Or maybe the painkillers were just too good. Oh well, Gordon was gonna roll with it.

“Wait, why can I hear you?”

“Uh. Near death experience, maybe.”

“I wast even close to dying! I only fell like two stories.” Gordon said.

“Human bodies are wimpy or whatever.” Gordon could hear the auditory shrug.

“It’s cool we can talk now, I guess.” Gordon wasn’t sure where to look. He fixed his gaze at approximately where Benrey’s voice was coming from.

“Yeah, maybe you won’t be so lame now that you can hear me dunking on you.”

“What? I’m not lame, you’re lame. You’re dead!” Gordon laughed.

“Whatever, lame lil stupid living...guy.” Benrey finished lamely.

“Have you always been talking to me?” 

“Pretty much, you’ve been missing out.”

“Talking to yourself is super lame, so I win.”

“Bro, you talked to me all the time. As a science man that doesn’t believe in ghosts that’s pretty pathetic. No friends, party of one. Lonely ass.” Benrey said flippantly.

That stung. Gordon blinked rapidly. 

The room seemed tense, like Benrey knew he had crossed a line. There was a feeling like the whispered notion someone of someone sitting next to him on the couch.

“Uh. I guess- It’s nice to be able to actually talk to you. PvP. 1v1 no items, Fox only. Final destination.” Benrey muttered, “been alone here a while but I got good taste so I wouldn’t stand for just any dude movin in here. Had to scare a few off.”

Gordon recovered, grasping onto Benrey’s backpedaling like a lifeline, “oh yeah? You ran people out of here?”

“Totally. Like Luigi’s Mansion. Mamma mia thatsa ghost. Last one had a catholic priest come in. I gave him a wedgie.” 

Gordon barked a laugh, “no fucking way!”

He could hear the smug smile in Benrey’s voice, “yes fuckin way. Shoulda seen his face. Auhhh I’ll call the pope on you, oh satanic spirit.” 

Gordon wiped a tear from his eye. Priest wedgies. Benrey was annoying but kind of awesome.

“Hey. You’re next to me on the couch, right?” Gordon asked.

“Uh. Yeah.” 

Gordon tentatively reached out, his arm getting a chill as it passed through an invisible barrier that he assumed was Benrey. It was like putting your hand in the fridge. Cool, but not freezing.

“Bro, that’s gay as fuck, don’t put your hand in me without taking me out for dinner first. Have some class, man.”

“Oh damn, didn’t think I was- Uh. In y- never mind,” Gordon drew his hand back. “What does it feel like?” 

“Uh, warm and gross? Kinda. I guess?”

“Interesting.” Gordon straightened, “hey, try me.”

Gordon suppressed a shiver when he felt a sudden coldness bloom in his chest. 

“Yo, I have a great idea. Sit still, please?”

“Benrey, Wh- you - don’t you-“ Gordon’s teeth began to chatter violently and he felt his body seize involuntarily.

Benrey said in a dumb voice, “myeh myeh science is cool and I’m super smart and not totally dumb even though I actually am.” Gordon’s lips wanted to move. He grit his teeth against the compulsion.

“Can you- are you trying to possess me?” Gordon’s glasses were fogging up.

“Whuh?”

“Benrey.”

“I don’t think…”Benrey trailed off, concentrating. Gordon was becoming extremely cold. He felt a strange frisson where Benrey must have ended and where he began. Gordon’s arm raised of its own volition and slapped him across the face.

“What the fuck!” 

“Ayyy, gottem!” Benrey cheered.

He pulled himself out of Gordon and Gordon felt like the room was way too hot. 

He tried to catch his breath, sweating and leaning heavily on the arm rest of the couch.

“Can you give me some warning next time you decide to fuck around and sit in my body?” He panted. 

“Yeah, can I try again? That was so based.” Benrey asked eagerly.

Gordon was still getting his bearings, melting and trembling, “Nuh.” He slurred eloquently before passing out.

—

He woke up on the couch, covered in a crinkly, dusty blanket of empty dorito bags. Fucking Benrey. What does a ghost need to eat for? Honestly, a ghost eating. For what? For fucking what I ask you? Useless ass.

He grit his teeth against the pain in his broken ribs as he struggled to get up. 

His pain pills and a lukewarm half full can of Mountain Dew lay on the coffee table in front of him. 

Just when he thought he could get a read on Benrey, the bastard does something mostly well-meaning.

He popped the recommended dosage and got up, groaning. He made his way to the bathroom.

Gordon nearly bit his toothbrush in half in alarm at seeing Benrey standing behind him in the mirror.

He whirled around and obviously couldn’t see anything. He turned back.

Benrey stuck his tongue out and Gordon laughed, sticking his tongue out too.

He resumed brushing his teeth and studied Benrey in the mirror. He recognized Benrey from when he fell from the ladder. Benrey looked like an average guy, except for his sunken eyes and dead stare. Maybe all ghosts look like that. He was a bit on the short side, compared to Gordon. He was wearing some kind of helmet and bullet proof vest with a button up and a tie. Gordon couldn’t recognize the insignia on the ID clipped to the vest.

“Like what you see?” Benrey asked.

“I guess?”

“Ha. Gay.” Benrey snorted.

He looked like he was Gordon’s age. He wasn’t bad looking, if Gordon was being honest.

“I mean, I thought you’d look older and more… dead?” Gordon cocked his head.

“I’m not a fucking zombie.” Benrey said.

“Eh, I could see you playing one on tv.” Gordon observed.

He leaned down and spat into the sink, looking in the mirror when he stood back up, he jumped with a gasp. There was a skeleton in the mirror behind him instead of Benrey.

“Jesus!” Gordon clutched his chest, the whiplash hurting his ribs.

“Better?” Benrey asked, skull clacking.

Gordon scowled, “No. Change back.”

The skeleton in the mirror sauntered away, “Nah, this is a good look, dude. Welcome aboard Mr. Bones Wild Ride. Please keep your hands and feet inside the ride at all times… no flash photography...” Benrey trailed off, muttering to himself as he walked into the living room.

—

It had been a few days and Gordon was getting used to having a roommate. It definitely took some getting used to. Gordon liked people but he was used to being alone quite a bit of the time. He needed some alone time. It didn’t help that Benrey kept doing the skeleton thing to fuck with him.

Benrey seemed distracted playing ps4, so Gordon used that opportunity to sneak away to his room. He wasn’t sure when he would get more chances like this when he could not hear Benrey definitively. He had the feeling that Benrey would give him shit and not leave him alone. 

Gordon closed his bedroom door quietly and locked it. He settled into his bed and after a while got himself in hand and in a steady rhythm. He panted slightly, eyes closed and lips parted. 

His door flew open and Gordon quickly threw a blanket over himself.

“Can I get a little privacy, please?” He yelled. 

Benrey spoke from somewhere nearby, “Sorry bro, no can do. Got the uh, season pass. Not gonna miss a game. Get my money’s worth.”

Gordon stared at where he assumed Benrey to be, giving the ghost his most judgemental glare.

“Go on man, knock it out of the park.” Benrey insisted.

Gordon spluttered, a hot flush working it’s way up his neck and down his abdomen simultaneously. “I’m not - I’m not going to jack off while you watch!”

“Why not?” Benrey legitimately whined, “ I was watching before.”

“Wh- you want me to?” Gordon asked, cock stirring. “Wait, last time? You interrupted me last time!”

“Well, watching you while you didn’t know I was there kinda kills the mood. Not very consensual like.” Benrey muttered.

“I guess. Wait - Benrey, why do you want to watch me jack off?”

“Man, I’ve been dead for uh…. time. Don’t get a lot of action yknow.”

Gordon narrowed his eyes, “so you figured you’d settle for me, huh?”

Gordon felt a flick on his temple, “No, idiot. Calm your emo ass down. I have good taste, remember? I’m not into watching just any Tom, Dick or uhhh Dick.” 

The idea of being wanted warmed something deep in his chest. He did, in fact, like Benrey overall and he was admittedly handsome. Gordon tried and failed not to feel pleased at being wanted… by a ghost. Who wanted to watch him crank one out. What had his life come to? 

Might as well go all out while he was at it.

“Hey,” Gordon began, clearing his throat, “You know how you just flicked me?”

“Yeah? Did that do it for you? Nasty lil dirty boy wants to get flicked again?”

“No,” Gordon laughed, “I mean you can touch me, right? Like when you pulled my hair that one time?”

“Bro, you want a ghost hand job? Ghost blow job? Choo choo??” 

“Is that on the menu?” Gordon asked, twitching in interest. 

“Carte blanche, my man. You want uh, you want some freesh fries with that?” 

Gordon had no idea what his life had become. Was he seriously going to exchange sexual favors with a horny ghost? 

“Have you ever done this before?” Gordon asks, desperately trying not to sound as desperate and nervous as he was.

“Nah, you’re lucky numero uno. Contestant number one come on down.”

Benrey was talking faster than usual. Maybe he was nervous, too.

Gordon didn’t know what to say. He was kind of scared Benrey would bite off his dick from beyond the grave. He has seen those sharp, sharp teeth in the mirror.

“Wanna kiss?” Benrey asks abruptly. 

“Yeah that seems like a good, ah, jumping off point.”

“Sweet. Yeah. Cool, bro.” 

“Ok. Ghost makes outs.” Gordon laughed a little hysterically, “where are you?”

“I’m right here, need me to ping the map for you? Oh right, you can’t see me, huh? Uh…” Benrey said, brilliance incarnate. 

The bed indented slightly, the air next to Gordon and above his face grew chill.

“I’m in position. Ready to take the target.” Benrey said. Gordon could swear he heard Benrey swallow thickly.

Gordon’s stupid gay heart was racing. He lifted his hands as if he were cupping the sides of someone’s face.

“Okay.” He said softly, lowering his eyelashes and leaning forward with a title of his head. 

Nothing.

His lips met empty, cold air.

He leaned farther forward.

Still nothing.

“Is something supposed to happen? You’re fucking with me, aren’t you? I should have known.” Gordon fell back against his pillow, dejected.

“No man, I’m. Uh. Shit.” Benrey mumbled quickly. “It’s hard to touch a human and interact with things. Uses a lot of uhhhhh...gp. ghost points.”

Gordon sighed. “Bullshit.”

“I’m serious. Moving stuff is hard but it’s not bad like, pushing that shitty mug off the counter. electronics are easier but I drain the battery, absorbing the energy. Touching you, well it takes a lot outta me. Unless it’s like a quick touch. It’s harder when you’re focused on me or looking. And uh.”

“Uh.” Gordon repeated flatly.

“Think I used up my gp being a skeleton.”

“Are you fucking kidding me.”

“Sorry not sorry.” Benrey said before amending: “Kinda sorry.” 

Gordon laughed weakly, “it’s - it’s fine, man. We can try another time.” He was a little disappointed but still horny as hell, many Benrey could just sit this one out and watch. He slid a hand down his belly, to

“Hold up. Brain blast.”

“What?”

“Let me possess you again? Please?”

Gordon squinted, “You’re totally fucking with me, you prick. Doesn’t that require ‘gp’?” He used air quotes for extra incredulity. 

“When we tried before it actually replenished my gp. I sucked the energy out of you. It felt really good for me if I’m being honest. That’s how I could eat so many Doritos and bring your baby medicine from the other room. And why you passed out like a nooblord.”

“Oh, yeah, very appealing Benrey. Drain my life force.” Gordon said sarcastically.

“I’m trying to, if you know what I mean. Gonna- gonna wring it all out of you. To the last drop. Make you spill everything until you’re completely dry.”

Gordon was most certainly, shame-inducingly hot and bothered. Even though he wasn’t sure if Benrey was genuinely talking about sucking the life out of him or if it was a euphemism. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a dead fish before he could articulate himself. “You know what? Fuck it. That sounds amazing. Bring it in.” He let his arms fall open at his sides, inviting.

Apparently, Benrey didn’t need to be asked twice. He must have dove right in, because Gordon’s body jerked at the sudden cold intrusion pushing through him. He balled the sheets in his fists and tried to remain still as Benrey pushed himself through Gordon’s extremities. His feet scrabbled for purchase on the bed, bent at the knee and he let out a ragged gasp.

“Benrey!” Gordon bit out.

“Hang on I’m trying to get settled,” Benrey said distractedly, “breaking this bad boy in.” Gordon’s hand twitched abruptly before snaking down to palm at his throbbing dick through his boxers.

“You’re one horny mother fucker aren’t you?” His own mouth said with Benrey’s voice echoing in his head. Gordon’s toes curled. He struggled to articulate anything, it was like someone else was touching him but he was also touching himself at the same time. Familiar and unfamiliar. Routine yet exciting.

“I’m a relatively young man! I’ve got needs, okay?” Gordon defended, “and don’t talk through me, it’s weird.” Benrey’s smug, flat tone vibrating through his vocal chords and coming out of his own mouth was unsettling.

Benrey, taking this as a challenge, groaned loudly using Gordon’s voice and made his body writhe. It was humiliating. “I’m Gordon Feetman and I’m a hot horny slut who craves ghost sex.” He moaned exaggeratedly and wantonly with Gordon’s vocal chords before cackling, “Oh yeahhhh! Fuck yeah baby hahaha.” 

Gordon’s ears burned. His whole body burned. The room felt like it was on fire. Wasn’t he cold just a few moments ago?

He had half a mind to tell Benrey to knock it off but it was also kinda hot? He didn’t know he could sound like...that. He tended to be quiet in bed. He wasn’t sure Benrey had ever been quiet in his life.

“Nice cock, bro. Ten outta ten. Would stroke again.” 

“Can you not meme for like, one minute?” Gordon laughed breathlessly. 

“Nope.” Benrey said, popping the p. 

—

Gordon was so close. His breath stuttered, he felt a heat so violent that it felt cold blooming in him, about to overcome him -Benrey cut off his impending orgasm with a vice-like grip to the root of his balls.

“Yo before this goes any further, I’m gonna have to see some credentials.”

Gordon did not have the brain power for this. “What?!” He exclaimed, head spinning. 

“You got a passport? ID?”

“Benrey, let me cum! I’m so fucking close.” Gordon desperately tried in vain to move his own hand, it wouldn’t budge.

“No can do, gonna need to see some uh, identification. Can’t just jack off any random guy, you might be an imposter.”

“Wh- D- Y- What are you saying!” Gordon just needed a couple of strokes to send him over the edge, he couldn’t take it. He tried as hard as he could to let go of his tightening sack. His body refused to obey him. Benrey must be overpowering his control, somehow. He whined in helpless frustration.

“Gonna need to see that passport if you want me to finish you off.” Benrey said, running Gordon’s tongue between his own lips and using his thumb to tap the beads of precum leaking from his slit with a sticky noise.

“Ok, ok, ok,” Gordon said hurriedly, almost in pain, “nightstand, drawer, my wallets in there. It has my driver’s license. Happy?” 

Gordon’s body jerked and he hobbled to his nightstand, dick in hand, feeling like an idiot. 

“It’s expired.” 

Gordon groaned, “Benrey please, I am begging you!”

“Eh…” Benrey twisted Gordon’s fingers lightly. 

“Please, please please, I’m gonna die!” Gordon panted.

“Ok.” Benrey let go and began pumping Gordon’s cock as fast as he could, squeezing tight at the head with every stroke.

Gordon’s eyes rolled back in his head, his mouth opened in a wordless cry. He stuttered a desperate inhale as he shook and came helplessly. Steaming hot cum splattered his stomach and somehow a splash of it got on his foggy glasses. That’s definitely a new record. 

—

Gordon had nearly recovered from the best orgasm of his life when his phone rang. He picked it up, still trying to calm his breathing. His fingers were tingling.

“Don’t answer that, man. Who do you think you are?” Benrey said in his own voice as he disengaged himself from Gordon’s physical form. “Boo, we hate your bedside manner.”

“That’s not- shut up!” Gordon said, covering the receiver, and shuddering violently at the separation, “Hello?”

“Hello, Gordon!” And here Gordon thought it would have been something important.

“Hey Dr. Coomer, can I call you b-“

“Nonsense! I have time right now. How are things with Benrey?”

Benrey cackled, “Bro he just came his brains out. Things with me are epic as can be. Totally worth. Gg ez.”

Gordon bit his cheek and ignored him, “Uh, good. Yeah, things are good!”

“Myeh myeh myeh”

“I can hear him now.” Gordon admitted.

“Really, Gordon? Fascinating!” Coomer exclaimed.

Benrey said, “yknow what’s really fascinating? the feeling of Gordo’s balls pulsing when he busts a nut. Heyo!” Gordon was going to die.

He knew Coomer couldn’t hear Benrey but he was rapidly turning red anyways. “Y-Yeah, listen, now isn’t really a good time-“ he said hurriedly.

“Not to worry! This sounds like an important breakthrough for our research. Dr. Bubby and I will be there by 7 tonight!”

“The fuck is this guy on about? Slumber party? Tell them to bring Jack in the Box.” Benrey blew cold air in Gordon’s ear.

“What? No! Benrey don’t do that! And shut up! Coomer, you’re not-“ the call ended with a click. “Don’t come to my house.” Gordon groaned, burying his face in a pillow. It was damp with sweat. Gross.

“Why’d you invite those old fogies to come over? You weirdo.”

“Wh- I didn’t invite them! If you had just shut up and stopped gloating about getting me off, I might have been able to focus and turn him down in time!”

“Whuh? Not my fault you’re a lil’ baby pushover.”

Gordon sighed like he was going for the gold. He checked the time. They had a few hours yet. 

He said as much. Gordon realized something. “Did you…?”

“Duh yuh?”

Gordon cleared his throat, “did you, yknow, finish too?” 

“Of course I did. What are you expecting? Blue, ghostly ejaculate? You into that kinda shit? Ecto plasms on your face?”

“I was just making sure! It was,” Gordon still felt a little boneless, he closed his eyes, “fucking fantastic for me. So I wanted to make sure it was good for you too.”

“Yeah man I feel great. Post orgasmic Gp max over here. Plus, inhabiting your body made me cum at the same time as you. Porno shit. Pretty epic.”

“Oh,” Gordon said. That was hot as hell. Maybe he could incorporate ghost sex into his normal routine.

Once he figured out how to get rid of those paranormal investigators.


End file.
